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It was only a matter of time before it happened, but I was flabbergasted when it did. We were in an elevator at a shopping mall and a well-meaning shopper chatted at Nicholas, sitting in his stroller and being his usual charming self. And she referred to me as "Grandma."

Aargh. I know I'm an older mom. I know people younger than I who really are grandmothers. And I know, much to their chagrin, that my stepdaughters have more then once been mistaken for being Nicholas' mom. Still, my immediate thought was "Do I look that bad?"

Joe could hardly contain his riotous laughter. Of course, nobody's called him "Grandpa." Yet. If you see us out, feel free to holler his way.

Okay, enough with the whining and lamenting. I'm going to go make some appointments. Hair coloring. Botox. Tummy tuck. Maybe someone has a "Grandma special."